TD Training Entry #12: This Decade Demands a Century

A new decade is upon on us, friend!  (don’t spoil my fun by telling me that technically the new decade starts in 2011)  Today marks the beginning of a new era!  Flush your failures down the Toilet of Yesteryear, for you have just been handed an empty slate and a new lease on Life!  What, pray tell, will you do with them?  (pssst…flush one more time…it didn’t all go down)

Hopefully you will be embarking upon the greatest adventure of your life, whatever that might be.  For me, it’s the 2010 Tour Divide, and I can scarcely believe that the start is now less than six months away.  I’ve spent a full year transforming myself into some parodic semblance of an endurance rider, sacrificing time, money, comfort, and the perception of sound mental capacities in order to pursue the opportunity to torture myself for weeks on end. 

Towards that goal, and to herald the start of a new decade, it’s time for me to kick it up a notch and test my hard-earned mountain biking superpowers in my first ever endurance event.  On Januray 23^rd, my buddy Pat and I will ride in the first annual Red River Riot, a self-supported, 100 mile endurance challenge in Saint Jo, Tx.  They call it a “challenge” rather than a race, because there will be no prizes given.  Therefore, if I win, I will create my own reward, which will be to stand at the finish line and yell, “Yeah!  I BEAT you!” to other riders as they finish.

Kidding of course.  I am no such a-hole and I don’t expect to finish anywhere near first.  I expect only to have a great time, meet some cool people, and gain some self supported “racing” experience.  Here’s an excerpt about the Riot from the registration web site:

The course will be a unique combination of singletrack, dirt roads, gravel roads, Jeep roads and as little actual pavement as we need to tie it all together for well over 100 miles of off road greatness for the strongest of the strong.

Hey, sounds pretty TD-like to me!  In fact, I have noticed that TD ‘09 alum and fellow Texan Ray Porter is signed up for the men’s singlespeed category.  I hope we can track him down and coax some words of wisdom out of him. 

Also, I invited another Texan and TD ‘09 alum to join us: the superhuman Cadet Bryant, who recently raced on foot against HORSES…and beat some of them!  This guy eats 100 mile runs for breakfast! 

Speaking of Cadet, I want to give long overdue props to him and another TD ’09 alum, Eric Bruntjen.  Both of these guys have been ultracool mentors to me and Pat in our preparations for the 2010 Tour Divide.  They have given their excellent advice freely and generously, and it has proven invaluable in our training, gear choices, and even our travel plans.  Eric finished in ’09 with a very impressive time of 21:12:00, and was able to ease my considerable fears about the Great Basin.  Cadet had to pull out in Eureka due to a blown knee, but this year he is coming back to take his vengeance!  Keep on rockin’, Eric and Cadet!

After Pat and I cut our teeth the Red River Riot, I believe we will focus on conjuring up our own personal multi-day bikepacking events.  Our (highly irritating) problem is that we can’t take a lick of vacation time from work, as we are having to reserve every hour of vacation pay for the TD.  So we can’t really travel to cool events like the Arizona Trail 300, which I would absolutely love to do.  Instead, we’ll need to identify a 200+ mile route somewhere in the Texas Hill Country, drive up there on a Friday night after work, ride 16 hours Saturday, throw down the bivies, ride 16 hours Sunday, then drive home late Sunday night and go to work the next day.  Ouch.  Not ideal, but it will help us to get a feel for what a couple days on the TD will be like, and it will let us test out our obsessively researched gear choices.

Did you say gear?  Because I got a smackload of it last month, thanks to my supportive family and a healthy Christmas bonus.  For my birthday, I got my REI bivy sack and my Pearl Izumi X-Alps.  Haven’t had a good chance to test the bivy out yet, but I’ve been breaking in the Alps and I love ‘em.  Then, for Christmas, I got my Showers Pass rain gear, my Wingnut backpack, a new Black Diamond headlamp, and Dakota Fanning.  Oh, sorry, I mean my Garmin Dakota 20 GPS.  I nicknamed it Dakota Fanning because its small, lightweight, intelligent, responsive, irritating in a couple small ways, and it tells people precisely where to go. 

Out of all my new gear, I have been most enamored by Dakota Fanning.  I’ve never owned a handheld GPS before, and after exhaustive research and reading Scott Morris’ recommendation, I decided on the Dakota, and I have been most pleased.  It’s a cinch to operate, perfect for noobsters like me. I’ve been playing around with all the settings and fiddling with custom maps (gpsfiledepot.com is rockin), and I’ve even done some geocaching in my area.  I’m totally lovin’ this thing, and I’m dying to put it to the test in the wilds. 

I’ll leave you with a few crappy cell phone pics rom my ride at Huntsville State Park yesterday.  Hope you’ve had a great holiday season with family and friends, and I wish you well in the new decade!  Now get back to work. 

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #11: Seven Months To Go

Well we are officially at T minus seven months and counting until the 2010 Tour Divide.  I’ve wanted to write so many training updates over the past couple of months, but hey, Time is an elusive, giggling little gremlin whose scrawny neck is forever just out of my grasp.  Any spare hours I muster away from work, family, and damned societal responsibilities must ideally be spent on the bike, and not in front of a computer screen.  So the following post is the result of me forcing myself to sit down and mash up a non-cohesive, abridged version of all the updates I’ve been wanting to write about but just haven’t had time to. 

So I logged 132 miles in the saddle last week!  That’s easily the most I’ve ever done in a six day span, due to (you guessed it!) time constraints more than anything else.  But since I didn’t have to worry about work over the long Thanksgiving holiday, I was able to crank out the extra miles.  Of course, due to family obligations, I had get up at 3 AM and ride in 40 degree weather in order to get my miles in before it was time to visit the clan.   But hey….dark, crazy morning rides in the freezing cold is exactly what the TD is about, right?  Mmmm mmm, that’s good trainin’! 

In a previous post, I mentioned that the training route I’d carved out for myself was 22-30 miles depending how much time I had.  Well, as I’ve built my endurance more and more, I’ve expanded that route, mile by mile, over the last several months.  Now, I’ve got a nice 60 mile route I can do as time permits, starting from my front door.  It’s unfortunately flat for the most part, but it does take me over the Kemah bridge (pic below), which is the steepest climb we have around these flatlands.

A kinda funny, cool thing I want to mention is that I now regard 20 mile rides as “warm ups.”  Several months ago, I remember reading previous racers’ blog comments about how they never really felt warmed up until they hit 40 miles or so, and I recall thinking something along the lines of “Phfft, whatever.  It doesn’t take 40 miles of riding to get warm…you’re just showing off.”  After all, in those days, I was “warm” after only a few miles into my 10 mile ride.  But now, as I’ve expanded my mileage more and more, I GET it.  They weren’t showing off….they were getting into a groove.  They were beginning to feel a sweet synergy.  The ride was becoming a part of themselves, and they got stronger as they grinded out the distance.  Well, I’m feeling that now, and it excites me.  It gives me confidence that I can actually do this thing.  And this weekend or next, I will try for my first 100 mile day. (yeah I know, how many time have I said THAT)

I have not, however, become simply a distance hound by any means.  A few weeks ago, Pat and I returned to Rocky Hill Ranch in the Texas Hill Country, where we camped and spent most of our weekend pounding the hardcore trails there, which were marked for the previous weekend’s race.  We churned out almost 40 miles of vertical, stony carnage, and had a blast doing it.  I don’t know if there’s an official formula for equating highly technical mountain bike trails to smooth road rides, but surely our 40 miles of grindage at Rocky Hill was the equivalent of 80 road miles!  What’s really cool is that we “settled” on going to Rocky Hill after we discovered that our first several choice destinations were closed due to hunting season…WTF!  It turned out to be a blessing, though, because Rocky Hill was a helluva joyous and challenging romp.  I hear technical riding is sparse on the GDMBR as a whole, but we got in a fantastic workout and plenty of climbing, a rarity for us flatlanders.

And then there’s my solo journey four weeks ago to Jack Brooks Park in Hitchcock, TX, or as I now call it, Evil Jackass Park.  What a nightmare that day was.  I went there looking for a kickass, all-day workout and, more importantly, to mentally avenge a piss poor performance from the last time I set foot there, many many years ago.  In that day of yore, long forgotten to all but me, I spent two hours fighting the vicious terrain and being embarrassed time and again as I bit the dirt in frustration.  For my grand finale on that sinister day, on our way back to the cars, I missed a narrow little bridge and plunged headlong into a disgusting, smelly creek, where both me and my bike were fully submerged for a few moments, and I was pitilessly laughed at by my “pals.” 

“This time will be different,” I mused confidently as I cranked out a few loops on the pavement there before hitting the dirt.  But Evil Jackass Park had other ideas.  Minutes into the trail, I was eating my shit as if today were merely a continuation of that pathetic day years prior.  In my defense, the roots there are vicious and gnarly, (see pics) but even so, I was awful yet again.  Perhaps it was a mental thing, but I was stopped so many times, and I had to tear my foot off my clipless pedal on so many occasions, that my anger mounted quickly and exponentially, to where I was “riding mad” in less than 10 minutes of being there.  And wouldn’t you know it, I fell off a fucking bridge yet again, wiping out all over the joint like a noobie moron.  I tore my carbon fiber handlebars, I broke my camera, and I got bitten by 8 trillion mosquitoes, all within 45 minutes of hitting the trail.  Beaten yet again by Satan’s Playground, I cursed at a tree and took a shit on it before I dejectedly walked my bike out of there for the last time ever.

 Needless to say I got myself a new set of handlebars (Easton aluminum this time please) and have been continuing my training efforts.  And now that Thanksgiving is over, its time to attack another sorely lacking aspect of my TD preparations: my diet. 

I’ve been a musclebound meathead my whole life, and its been difficult trying to slim down.  My lifelong mentality has been to eat lots of protein, lift lots of weights, and just be huge.  Now as I creep towards middle age, my unnecessary muscle has been growing a lovely new bacon jacket to keep it warm.  And even though I have been busting my arse on the bike and in the gym for many months now, I can’t seem to lose a whit of it.

I sure as hell don’t want to lug around all that extra meat for 2700+ miles!  So in a concerted, focused effort to lose upper body weight, while still strengthening my extremely sexy leg muscle, I have put myself on a serious calorie count, and I have cut out gluten and most simple carbohydrates, concentrating on complex carbs, healthy fats, lean meats, and of course, fruits and veggies.  And damn it all, I have cut out alcohol too.    I know full well that I’ll be eating junk on the TD, and I figure I will reintroduce it into my diet a month or so prior to racetime, just to “acclimate” my body to it again.

I’m restricting my upper body workouts to one day of intense circuit training, and focusing on leg strength and cardiovascular training (in the gym and in the saddle) all other days.  My age old focus on building mass is hard to kill, but I’ve already lost a few pounds since I began this regime a few days ago. 

I’m aiming for a weight of about 165 for the TD (I weight 185 now) even though it means losing some sexy muscle mass along with the fat.  Hell, at least when the TD is here, I will already be used to lugging around a bunch of extra weight!

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #10: Good Riddance Texas Summer!

At long last….FINALLY…this outrageously scorching south Texas summer has begun to relent.  After weeks upon neverending weeks of sweltering murderously under Satan’s 105 degree breath, we poor Houstonians are mercifully experiencing downright frigid 85 degree days. 

Trying to train for the Tour Divide beneath this blanket of summer suckishness has been pure torture.  For the last three months or so, I’ve had to sneak all my riding in before 12:00 pm or after 7:00 PM…any time in between meant death!  What makes it worse is knowing that cyclists who live in awesome areas like Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Alaska, etc are riding every day in spectacular weather with stunning scenery all around them.  I ride in a flat, smoggy, Old Testament inferno! 

During the summer months, I relied more on the blessed climate controlled atmosphere of the gym for my training.  And as I’ve come to realize, I sometimes get better workouts at the gym than I do just riding my bike on my woefully unchallenging training route.  Grinding out miles on a spin cycle set to maximum resistance = brutal!

I’ve just made myself chuckle a bit…one year ago, my “woefully unchallenging” training route was a malicious journey which never seemed to end, and which left my body fatigued for a couple days afterwards.  After all, I was starting from complete scratch as far as being in riding shape or having any endurance experience.  Now, I ride the same training route as more of an afterthought.  When I graduated to the long, technical climbs of the Texas hill country, I experienced a new level of pain and fatigue!  Huffing and puffing up those vicious slopes, my legs, my lungs, and my inner being cried while I projected outward false manliness.  Now, months later, I’m rockin’ those same climbs with genuine glee.  

So I’ve come a long way, but still have a long way to go.  I’m still looking for my first 100 mile day, but, due to the heat, I have not been able to get more than 60 miles in at once.  This past weekend, though, with temperatures plummeting into the high 80’s, my buddy Pat Smith and I made our best attempt.  Pat has recently committed to winning the Tour Divide in 2010, and boasts that he will (and I quote) “slaughter Matthew Lee’s record by several days, because that’s how he rolls.” 

Kidding of course, he is not so brazen.  He only said he’d beat the record by “several hours.”  Point is, he’s basically coming from the same background as me…lives in flat Texas, no endurance riding experience, more interested in swilling beer than electrolyte doping…we’re damn near the same guy.  So last Saturday we made the two hour-ish drive to our nearest hilly training ground, Huntsville State Park, with the idea that we’d get 100 miles of climbing in over the course of the day.  I thought that even if it took me 16 hours, I was going to get in my 100 miles of climbing. 

Well, that was a tad ambitious.  We have definitely come a long way in our training, but we rudely discovered that we just ain’t that good yet.  In our defense, we had to overcome a brutal mugginess in the atmosphere….it had rained for several days before we got there, and the wet ground combined with zero wind and an 85 degree temperature just “sat” on top of us as we churned out miles.  It was so humid…like swamp humid…I felt like I was dragging Jabba the Hutt’s pedestal behind me.  Nevertheless we rode, and on the Huntsville trails, you’re mostly either climbing or descending, and we’re talking anywhere from moderate to highly technical trails.  I daresay the miles here are considerably more difficult than most of the farm road miles we’ll be pulling on the TD.  Or maybe I just really really hope that.  

At mile 35, Pat had had enough.  He packed up and left, leaving me there to will myself into riding the remaining 65 miles alone.  I punked out after another 5 miles or so.  Even though I felt like I could ride quite a bit longer, it just got pretty boring pretty quick riding the same trails yet again, alone.  I’ve read in blog after blog that the Great Divide route can get pretty boring for long stretches, so I really tried to muster the heart to continue, just as I will undoubtedly have to do on the TD.  But my heart said “screw that, let’s go home to wifey-poo.”  FAIL!  

So I didn’t reach 100 miles, but I find solace in one thought.  One year ago, Pat and I would not have lasted more than a few miles out there at Huntsville, and even that would have left us physically devastated.  Saturday, we did more climbing than either of us had ever dreamed of, and though tired afterwards, I could have done more, and was ready to ride again the next day.  So the training is paying off, and I’m feeling better and better about our chances of enduring the 2010 Tour Divide!

So, my goals for the next several months are:

1. Get the diet under control!  Despite all my riding, I still have too many upper body man handles!  The extra weight might make for great Tour Divide training, but I seriously do not want to carry all that meat with me on the Divide!  I go through periods of eating great, then mess it all up by eating junk food for a few days.  My metabolism is accursedly slow, so I cannot afford to keep slipping up.  I RACK DISSIPRIN!

2. Take the Advanced Bike Mechanics training class at REI in October.  Pat’s doing this one with me.  Later I’ll take a wilderness navigation course as well.  Time to become experts!

3. Work on my aerobic capacity, or VO2 max, as it’s called.  I feel I’ve been doing a terrific job of getting my legs stronger via weight training, spin cycling ,and high intensity riding.  In fact, my legs have become extremely sexy, and women want them badly.  But I feel that I’m still getting winded too soon during long climbs.  Especially when I see an experienced rider cruising easily past me up a hill while I huff and puff in amazement.  The Mountain Biker’s Training Bible by Joe Friel has been a great source on this, and on all my training.

4. Start amassing gear.  I’ve nailed down pretty much every item I need, and I need a lot.  We are talking about some very serious coin here. Crazy, nutty coin. And with real life expenditures constantly draining my wallet, (Hello $1000 vet bill! Howdy $520 car repair bill!) it is very difficult to justify buying things like a waterproof bivy sack and a handheld GPS.  Have something to loan or donate?  Give me a shout.

5. Keep on riding!  I WILL get my elusive 100 mile day in!  Even if it has to be on flat ground!  Now that the temperature isn’t sucking the very soul out of my body, I swear I will do it!

And now on to some pics!  These really aren’t that good…we’ve been concentrating on training more than picture taking.  But here ya go.

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #9: Government Canyon Scorcher!

There is a malicious monstrosity tyrannizing me.  A pitiless beast of prey, whose talons sear my flesh, and whose smelting grasp incinerates my will.  It aims to devour my soul, or, failing that, to keep me from training for the Tour Divide.

It is (cue evil music) the evil South Texas Summer.

Since I am consumed with my training efforts, I try to turn every spare moment into an opportunity to ride, including family vacations.  This past weekend was my brood’s annual trip to New Braunfels to float the river…why we choose the most skin-scalding time of year to lay nearly naked on a black tube drinking beer for hours on end is another story.  This year, the Misses and I brought our bikes along so we could sneak away to Government Canyon State Natural Area in nearby San Antonio, where I could take advantage of climbing opportunities that I just can’t get in the flatlands of Houston.

The problem is that it was 8 jillion degrees outside.  Not 6 or 7…..I tell you it was 8 jillion degrees if it was 1.  Seriously, when we made it to the Canyon at 8:45 a.m, it was already 89 degrees.  A few hours later, it was 104 with a heat index of 114.  In fact, we are in the midst of quite a severe drought down here, as evidenced by the acres upon acres of devastated crop fields we drove past to get to New Braunfels.  Such is the way of the south Texas summer…it makes every torturous day miserable.  It makes you want to quit before you even start.  I usually spend my summers here indoors as much as possible for this reason, but I have never had a quest as mighty as the Tour Divide to conquer.  This year, I must brave it. 

This year….I ride.

Having read a few reviews about the Canyon online, I knew that it featured a frontcountry with lots of flat trails, and a backcountry with much more challenging trails.  And judging by the contour lines of the map I printed up, the backcountry had plenty of what I was after….nasty climbing! 

When we pulled up to the entry gate, the attendant looked at our hardtails in the truck bed and said, “Um, if you’re going to ride in the backcountry, we do recommend dual suspension,” to which I replied, “Dear lad, the only dual suspension I’ve ever had was back in high school when I got suspended twice for administering swirlies to two weenies like you.”  Heh heh, I didn’t really say that, or do that in high school.  I’m a very nice guy.  But I did look at the guy as if to say, “Dude, whatever.”

Well he was right.  It didn’t take long after setting out on Joe Johnston’s route for our skulls to start rattling around.  This place was ultra-rocky, just crazy gnarly rocky, and I’m not talking about smoothed over stones of riverbeds past.  These rocks were jutting, jagged, pock-marked, and vicious!   Everywhere we rode, it was a slow going test of will and fortitude, and even the downhills were highly technical and demanded pedaling and forethought.  And if you screwed up, there was always a giant cactus bush besides the trail, waiting eagerly to make you pay!  Sitting here now thinking about it, I am pretty amazed that neither of us endo’ed or popped a tire, especially on the ridiculous Caroline’s Loop.  I think my phrase of the day was this, which I uttered every time I turned a corner to see an impossible, rock-riddled climb staring me in the face: “Oh you gotta be kiddin’ me!!”    Throw in 100+ degree heat and this was byfar my most brutal training workout ever! 

Ususally I follow a statement like that with “But it was also a lot of fun!”  This time, I will say only that the scenery, at times, was pretty awesome.  Ancient canyon walls and long silent riverbeds were a very nice change of pace from the flatlands of southeast Houston.  And the moss forest we went through felt quite mystical, like a crew of Tolkein’s Treebeards lined the path allowing us passage.  And what was the deal with “The Zizelmann House?”  This was a boarded up old house right in the heart of the backcountry, which, I found out later, had been there since the 1880′s.  Not much else is known about it, apparently.

 My wife was a real trooper.  Although not nearly trained up as me, she never said the word “quit.”  She said the word “rest” quite a few times, but never “quit.”  Me, I found that I was quite happy with how my fitness level has progressed.  As always, I was wearing my backpack loaded with 20 pounds to help simulate  the extra weight I’ll be carrying on the Tour Divide.  I’ve pretty much reached the point to where it seems as if its not even there.  My legs never burned on any of the climbs, which was an unexpected first, and I feel myself recovering more quickly after full exertion.  It really feels as if all my hard work in the gym and in the saddle is paying off nicely, and that is massively gratifying.  I really wanted to do more, but with the sun beating down unmercifully and only getting hotter, we were forced to leave the Canyon around noon.  

Now on to the pics!

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

And more pics!

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #8: Huntsville State Park

When we first hit the trails at Huntsville State Park this past weekend, we were downright gleeful.  By the end of the day, I wanted my mommy!

Once again, in an effort to get out of the flatlands of Houston and into a hilly area where I could work on my climbing skills, I set up a trip to Huntsville with my wife Amy, and we invited our good friends Pat and Jane.  Huntsville State Park is located about 2 and a quarter hours north of our house in southeast Houston, but was definitely worth the drive.  Christopher Hess, author of Mountain Biking Texas, stated that the trail difficulty was moderate, with lots of smooth, hardpacked singletrack, and that the leg-burning climbs were outnumbered by the amount of exhilarating downhills.  Based on that description, I chose this location, thinking we could each have a long, enjoyable day of riding at our own pace.

Yeah right!  We soon discovered that some of the climbs along the Chinquapin Trail are long, steep, and very technical.  It was like the tree roots were battling each other, thumb-wars fashion, for top position across the trail.  And there were loads of new sand banks everywhere, obviously the recent work of trail crews, which may as well have been vats of molasses under our tires!  I ate it on the first of such sands pits as I took a corner too fast and it surprised me.  Pat felt bad for me and took a spill later to make me feel better.  The wives endured their own trials and tribulations…it turned out to be quite an unexpected challenge for all of us! 

That being said, it was an absolute blast and a magnificent workout.  Also riding the trails that day were about 20 members of the Houston Adventure Racing team, as well as quite a few pedestrians and even some equestrians.  Even so, the trails never seemed crowded.  At one point, a tween on a 29er blew by us as we lounged at the top of a climb, and I wondered how much more prepared I would have been for the Tour Divide if I had been riding like that at his age. 

After Pat, Jane, and Amy had had their fill, I slapped my 20 pound pack back on to my back and took another lap around the 8 mile Chinquapin loop, and I just nailed it full force the entire way.  I started out thinking I’d just take my time, but the trails were pretty empty now that the heat of midday Texas summer was upon the park, and I was in my groove.  So I gradually found myself going faster and faster, almost as if I had no choice.  The climbs were vicious, the heat was unbearable (90+ degrees!) and the downhills were tooth rattling, but man I was having fun!  Up until the point that I started feeling my skin get cold!  I thought it was odd that I started getting chills in 90 degree heat, but knowing that I was making amazing time, I stupidly ignored it.  I passed a trail runner who was as sweaty as me, but a little while later, I heard him sprinting, sprinting, up behind me.  I was still riding at a strong pace 6 miles in, and I was amazed that he was actually running up this hill and gaining on me.  When I heard him getting right up on my back tire, I took a quick glance back to see if I needed to move over, and there was no one there.  His footsteps were actually my heartbeat pounding in my ears.  Stunned, I churned into an impossible sand pit and was forced to stop, exhausted and slightly bewildered. 

Turns out I was beginning to suffer from heat exhaustion.  Living in the heat of southeast Texas all my life, I really thought I had gained somewhat of an immunity to heat exhaustion or heat stroke.  I mean, we live and play in 100 degree heat down here.  It’s the one aspect of racing the Tour Divide that I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about.  The cold, sure.  The heat?  Puuuhhlease.  But it turns out its a good thing I was forced to stop, or I may have soon passed out from driving myself too hard. 

After walking a little ways, cooling down, and sucking in lots of water, I resumed my ride, and finished it at the 52 minute mark.  I don’t know how good or bad of a time that is for a highly technical 8 mile ride loaded with lengthy climbs…I’m sure it pales in comparison to what the Houston Adventure racing team was doing, but I felt pretty good about it.   When I rolled into camp, Pat gave me a satisfying, “You gotta be kiddin’ me!”  lol, thanks Pat!

After I was sufficiently recovered (and chided by my wife) from my little heat scare, we rolled out for some beer and grub, and started talking about where we’d ride next.  We left a lot of trails untouched at Huntsville State Park, but what we rode was challenging and awesome, and I highly recommend it to anyone coming to central Texas!  Sorry we didn’t take more pics than the ones below…guess we were just having too much fun!

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #7: My Training Route

I recently read an article on ’08 Tour Divide racer and vegan dude Adrian Stingaciu.  In it, he says that for 3 months before the race, he spent 5-6 hours a day in the saddle, every day, for 5 days a week.  To which I say, “Adrian, buddy, clue me in, I’m begging you!  How in God’s name do you find 6 hours a day to ride your bike!?”  I read about guys like this all the time these days, and I am insanely jealous!  I work 8-12 hours every weekday, plus I have a family to spend time with and a house to be a slave to, as well as a myriad of other “real-life” duties.  I am lucky to find 6 hours per week to ride, let alone per day! 

If the planets align on any given weekeday, meaning if I get off work early enough, and I don’t have any urgent duties to tend to after that, I can haul butt home, throw down some grub, and hit my local training route.  I thought I’d post a few details and some pics of the route, for those who may be interested in how a flatlander with limited time is forced to train during the week.  I hit this route a couple times a week if I’m lucky and on weekends too, if I can’t make it out to a state park or mountain bike ranch.

The terrain:

7.5 miles of gravel doubletrack

2 – 4 miles of easy to moderate singletrack, depending on time

15 – 20 miles of pavement depending on time

The “wildlife”:

Along this route, you can spot snakes, turtles, alligators, cattle, armadillos, raccoons, and possibly Paris Hilton

Points of Interest:

NASA

A haunted mansion

University of Houston, Clear Lake

My place of work

Monstrous pieces of litter, i.e. a rusting engine block

The pics (with bonus commentary!!)

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #6: Rocky Horror Bike Show!

Rocky Hill Ranch

It was a good plan. An exciting and well laid plan. It had been hatched five weeks ago, and I had been counting down the seconds until it became reality. Rocky Hill Ranch. Two days, 200 miles. Me and Paul were to ride 100 miles each day, then join our women at the campfire at dusk, chuggin’ beers and cracking wise before retiring to our tents until dawn, with Memorial Day to serve as a mercy day, if needed. It was to be our first meaty Tour Divide training trip…our first true test away from the flatlands of Houston, TX, where we could challenge ourselves in regards to distance, rugged terrain, and vicious climbing. But, as I have learned from reading many previous GDR and TD riders blogs, your most well-laid plans mean nothing to uncaring, worldly machinations that seek to bedevil your every move!

Yes, the forces of darkness were allied against us, my friends! In the week leading up to our trip, illness beset both Paul and I, and we wondered if we’d each recover in time to go. During this time, I spent days bumbling around with a bad cold, trying to replace my bike’s wheels in a sort of ignorant, Three Stooges fashion. If you’ve been reading my page, you know that I am a relative noobie in many ways, including bike repair. First I bought a single wheel to replace the one I tacoed last weekend. But it was the wrong kind for my disc brakes. So I went back and exchanged it for a set of wheels, and later realized that they only work with presta valves, and my schraders wouldn’t fit. Went back and bought presta tubes and adapters, finally got my front wheel replaced, and then realized that the back wheel needs special tools to remove the cassette. After some online research at bicycletutor.com (awesome site) I had to go to three different bike stores before I found a chainwhip and a spline lock ring tool to do the job. When I finally got the damn rear wheel replaced, it was already Friday….I almost didn’t get it done in time. Again, thanks to bicycletutor.com for enlightening me.

Fighting off illness and ignorance, I pulled out my camping gear for inspection. Since my wife was going, I had to bring the luxury gear…the huge Taj Mahal tent, the blow up mattress, the giant camp chairs…gotta make the Chief of Staff happy. But the tent and the mattress had been sitting in the garage for who knows how long, and they were molded over. Shit! How could I have been so careless, and why did I wait until the day before to check this gear!?

Then Paul texted me….he was throwing in the towel. His illness was too great, he would not make the trip to Rocky Hill. That sapped my motivation pretty good. Throw in an increasingly dreary weather forecast for Smithville, a demanding work schedule which threatened to cut into my weekend, and a slew of family members pressuring us to attend Memorial Day gatherings, and we had a trip in jeopardy.

And so on Friday night, I was sitting on my couch with a cold and a painfully sore throat, while my wife sat patiently on the couch awaiting my decision. We shouldn’t go, I thought. As maddening as it is to accept, the sensible thing is to postpone, and hope that the stars align for us next time.

Well I freakin’ went anyway.

Nothing about competing in the Tour Divide makes a lot of sense. I mean, I’m spending thousands of my own hard earned dollars to experience a suffering like no man should ever know for 30 straight days with nothing but a big “I did it!” as my prize. What in the hell about that makes sense? Not a damn thing, by my reckonin.’ So why would I worry about sensibility now, right?

That was rationale enough for me. Rocky Hill Ranch, here I come!

Rocky Hill Ranch saloon at dusk. There would be no burgers for me.

I moved departure time from Friday night to early the next morning so I could borrow my brother’s camping gear and make some last minute preparations, and by 10:00 AM Saturday morning, we were pulling into the ranch gates.

I’d never been to a mountain biking ranch, and wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. I can tell you now I will be going a whole lot more, even after I race the Tour Divide. One of the main reasons I chose Rocky Hill, besides only being a couple hours away, was that they had a restaurant and showers right there on the premises. Hey, if you’re going to feed me and clean me, I’m there.

So my wife Amy and I pulled up to the unmanned check-in gate, deposited our fees, and drove up and around to the campgrounds. There were several other riders with their cars parked in the campgrounds, but only one other group of actual campers. We pitched a hasty camp, and I put on my backpack which was loaded with 20 pounds to help simulate the extra weight I’ll be carrying on the TD. I made a few adjustments on the bikes, sprayed my throat a hundred times with the most disgusting sore throat spray known to man, and we hit the trails!

The first trail we attacked was the legendary “Fat Chuck’s Demise,” whose rating of “difficult” seemed like quite an understatement to me! This is basically a wide, heavily rock-strewn road of massive climbs broken by a couple exhilarating downhills. It was my first true climbing test, and I felt great about conquering it. I did have to walk the last part of one of the climbs, but only because the rocks were so slippery and loose that my tires could find no purchase. As I walked my 26 inch wheels up the remainder of the that slope, I wondered if being on a 29er would have helped to overcome such fickle terrain.

Me re-enacting my walk up the slippery slope!

Timeout to give loving props to my beautiful wife Amy. She had been planning on lounging at camp with Paul’s girlfriend while he and I rode this beastly ranch. When they canceled, she chose to ride with me rather than be bored at camp by herself. Although she is not nearly as trained up as me, she gave it everything she had and never quit, even though she felt, at times, that she was going to pass out from exhaustion. She is a real trooper and a great supporter of what I’m trying to do. The truth is you better have a wife like that if you have any chance of racing the Tour Divide!

So then we attempted another “difficult” climbing trail, Ike’s Peak, but it was in ill repair and a quick glance at its rutt-ravaged slope told me it was unridable. So then we just started hitting trails with no regard to the map. They had names like “Drop Zone,” “Longhorn Loop,” and “Coyote Run.” They were all lots of fun, except for the fact that we were often dodging cow patties on the trail, and sometimes we had no choice but to ride right through them. That was kind of “shitty.”

Quick note about my training…I wrote a post a few weeks back about adapting my gym workouts to maximize my performance in the saddle. I was really looking forward to seeing how well (or not) my workouts would translate to my very first long climbing experience. I am very happy to say that said gym training helped my performance tremendously. My leg strength and endurance were never a problem during any of these long, rocky climbs, and I know for certain that this is a direct result of the hard work I’ve been putting in with the weights and the spin cycle. Without having done those things, I’d have had problems. Again, I know there’s a huge battle among cyclists about the benefits of weight training, and I’m not necessarily saying the same workout would benefit a seasoned rider, but for a noob…I’m convinced that supplemental weight training is vital. I’ve experienced it.

So anyway, after a few hours, we rode back to camp, where my beautiful and absolutely exhausted wife called it quits for the day. I scarfed down some grub, lubed up my throat with more rancid sore throat spray, and was just about to gear up for another several hours of solo riding when the thunderstorm hit.

“Noooo!” I screamed at the heavens, and as we raced to the safety of my truck cab, I continued to let the skies know, in no uncertain terms, how displeased I was with their decision to rain on my training ride. I had not even put in 20 miles yet. Maybe it will pass sooner rather than later, I thought. The forecast had called for a chance of scattered thunderstorms, so maybe this was just a quick pocket that would move on soon.

No such luck. An hour later, as it continued to come down, my glimmering hopes of salvaging this trip were fading. The other campers had already lit out.
I stubbornly stayed put, and when the rain finally stopped, I mounted up and resumed riding, even though I saw the continuation of the storm on the horizon. Gotta train in the mud too, I thought. But no one else was riding the ranch, and I was trashing the trails. I felt bad about it and returned to camp after only a few miles of sludgey riding.

Thinking that maybe we’d wait it out for the day and try to ride tomorrow, I came back to camp where my wife promptly told me that my brother’s tent, which I’d borrowed since mine was mold-covered, had leaked like crazy and wetted all of our bedding. And that sealed it…we had to leave.

So we packed up and rode out, and I was quite pissed about how it all turned out. But having made it there at all was pretty much a miracle in itself under the circumstances, and we certainly had a few hours of great riding. I’d planned on a lot more pictures and maybe even some video, but oh well.

If you’re a Texan or if you’re planning a visit here, I recommend checking out Rocky Hill Ranch. I talked to the owner, R.B. Phelps, before I came up, and he actually offered to show me around the ranch when I got there. Real nice fella. I’m kinda sore that I didn’t get to eat at the saloon, because I hear they have great burgers there.

Anyway I am already thirsting for my next outing, which hopefully will be Huntsville State Park on June 6th. Wanna go? Always looking for riding partners!

More pics!

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

TD Training Entry #5: Taco Tony!

I guess it was only a matter of time.

This past Saturday, I ate a heaping spoonful of shit on the Memorial Park biking trails, a direct result of me getting cocky in the saddle. Summoning my best Evel Knieval impersonation, I landed on a root longways and took a tooth-jarring dive on to the hard packed dirt. Tacoed my front wheel pretty good. Have a look:

My First Taco Ever!

At least my riding partners for that day, Pat and Gilbert, waited until they knew I was OK to laugh at me. I had to hike the bike outta there, and suffer the stares of passing riders in humiliating fashion. I convinced myself it was all a good thing though. I’d been falling in love with my increasing technical skills and was becoming too daring on rooty faire. I hadn’t wiped out like that since my days as a total newb nearly 20 years ago. Way to slap that check on me, Memorial!

So I went to Webster Bikes later that day hooked me up with a new wheel set (Sunrims DS2-XC), and I’m ready to roll next weekend. We were planning on a 200 mile weekend at Huntsville State Park, but their campsites were full, so now we’re headed to Rocky Hill Ranch near Austin, which really looks like a more kick ass place anyway. This will be me and Paul’s hardest test of ourselves so far….neither of us have covered that kind of distance over a weekend before. Wish us luck!

Time To Get Selfish?

I am learning a hard lesson, and I can’t say that I like it that much.   For ‘tis an ugly lesson with ugly implications.  And if I take it as seriously as I should, it means I may have to risk the well-being of some precious real-life relationships.  Basically, that lesson is that if I am to have a real shot at completing the Tour Divide race of 2010, I am going to have to get a lot more selfish. 

You're a bum, Rock, ya know dat!?

There’s a scene in Rocky II where old man Mick tells Rocky that “For a 45 minute fight, you gotta train hard for 45,000 minutes!”  Only he left out the “H” in the word “thousand.”  Forty-five tousand minutes, I tell ya!!  Well I am somewhat embarrassed to say that I have taken that little nugget of movie wisdom and applied it to every event I’ve ever trained for.  Or at least I’ve tried…prior to last year’s backpacking trip to the Colorado Rockies, for example, I trained with a fully loaded pack as much as I could, but I never came near Mick’s ungodly 1000 to 1 ratio.  The point is, though, I like to train as if I’m actually trying to attain that goal, no matter how out of reach it may seem.

Well, the Tour Divide is 2745 miles long, so using Mick-logic once again, I need to get in 2,745,000 training miles.  Lol, not bloody likely.  But the sentiment is still true.  The TD is a race of epic scale, the most brutal and carnivorous of maneaters, and to even have an iota of a chance, I will have to spend every precious free moment in training.

That being said, here is a sentence that I think I will be saying quite a bit for the next year:  “Sorry, I can’t.  I have to train.”

Mom’s birthday party on Saturday?  “Sorry, I can’t.    I have to train.”

The words I will write on a friend’s wedding invitation?  “Sorry, I can’t.    I have to train.”

Wife’s company picnic?  Niece’s softball game?  Annual family vacation to New Braunfels?  “Guys, I really am sorry, but I just can’t make it.  I have to train…the race is only a year away.”

Unfortunately, I am not joking about any of this.  Next weekend is Memorial Day weekend, and Paul and I are spending it training at Hunstville State Park with a goal of 200 miles in two days, which would be a first for both of us.  My poor, lovely wife and daughter are getting shafted out of a fun family holiday because of it. 

Using another movie example (which I suspect I’ll be doing a lot of on this web site), I urge the reader to watch Arnold Schwarzenegger in this priceless clip from the 1977 documentary “Pumping Iron,” in which Arnie is competing for the Mr. Olympia title:

While I couldn’t bring myself to miss my dad’s funeral, and while I stop short of calling social commitments “negative forces,” Arnie’s basic premise is true in terms of my training for the TD.  If I was a seasoned endurance rider, maybe I wouldn’t have to castrate myself from my own life.  But I’m coming at this thing as a total noob,  and I’m afraid that if I don’t give it everything I’ve got, I’m just setting myself up for failure. 

And so, for the next 13 months, I must make a social outcast of myself.  Adios, dear nephew, have a blast at your birthday party.  Adieu, my beautiful wife, I won’t be there when you wake up Saturday morning.    No, dude, I can’t help you move, I’m sorry, I have to ride my bike.  Yeah, I guess I’m kind of an a-hole like that these days.

I don’t expect a great deal of understanding…most people I mention this quest to think I’m insane, or  don’t comprehend the brutal magnitude of the race, and thus won’t see why I have to blow them off.  Many will have their feelings hurt, I am sure.  But the simple fact is that to accomplish something so magnificent and so monumentally epic, you have to work like a dog, you have to suffer mightily, and you have to make sacrifices.   That, or fail. 

So here is a formal, pre-emptive apology to everyone I shrug off for the next year.  To my family and friends, I am truly sorry, and I will do my best to make it up to you when the race is over.  I hope until then, you will support me in this grand endeavor and forgive me when I blow you off.  I promise I will make it up to you!

TD Training Entry #4: Tony’s First 29er

Saturday morning I hauled my wife and dog down to West End Biycles with me to rent a 29er for the weekend.  Having never ridden one, and having found that most TD racers ride them, I owed it to myself to find out what all the hoo-ha was about, and determine whether or not it would work for me.  And there was no better place to test it out than Memorial Park, home of the best mountain biking trails in Houston.

Bustin' out my Nine!

First off, I just want to give props to West End.  By far this was the friendliest shop I had ever visited.  They let my wife bring our dog in the shop, since they would not hear of her waiting outside in the 85 degree heat.  The entire staff was courteous and helpful, and they are the only shop in Houston that actually rents bikes, which says a lot in itself.  Rock on, West End.

So they rolled out my 29 inch chariot, a Gary Fisher Paragon (hell yeah!), and one of the mechanics made sure to pointedly inform me that the Memorial Park bike trails were closed due to the all the recent heavy rain and the resulting muddy trail conditions.   I imagined him squatting in a darkened room, cursing as he tossed a muddied-up rag into a giant pile of muddied-up rags and began cleaning yet another mud-caked rental return.  Poor fella.  I assured him I would stay away from The Memorial trails.

So an hour later, I was riding the Memorial trails, mentally apologizing to the trail gods, the mechanic, and Ghorba.  And if you, reader, volunteer your time to maintain trails, I apologize to you as well.  But it had to be done….it was my first time on a niner, and could be my last for a good while.   I had to run her through the entire gammut, slush or no, to see what she could do for me. 
 
To back up a bit, I tested the niner on the smooth concrete track around Memorial first.  Right off the bat, I could tell that she was harder to get going initially compared to the standard 26 inch variety.  And she felt a bit ungainly in the saddle.  But once I really got rolling, I was surprised at how she opened up and started easily chewing up pavement.
 

An unexpected site on the trail. Aaaawwwww....

After getting the feel on the smooth surface, I parted ways with wife and pooch and ducked into the forbidden dirt trails.  Luckily, most of the slush had dried up, and I made sure to avoid any remaining bogs.  Again, she felt somewhat unwieldy at first, but she felt better and better with each passing moment as I adapted to the “bigness” of the ride.  (Didn’t I hear Oprah’s husband say that exact same thing once?)  And talk about its technical capabilities!  I had read on many biking forums that the 29inch wheels really gobble up roots and rocks like a 26inch can only dream of, but honestly I had chalked that stuff up to exaggerated fan-boy chatter.  Well I quickly became a believer as I purposefully guided myself over every obstacle in sight, and watched with unexpected satisfaction as I sailed right over them with ease.  So far…awesome!

A couple hours later I took the Fish out to the 22 mile training loop near my home, which is a mix of gravelly doubletrack, pavement, and constant headwinds.  Here, the niner’s awesomeness was not so apparent to me anymore.  As I pushed towards Clear Lake, where the winds are always strongest, the bike just wanted to stop.  It took a good deal more effort to keep her going than it does on my 26 inch ride.  In the prior weeks, my training had progressed to the point that I was cutting into those winds with relative ease.  On the niner, I almost felt like I was back at square one.  It was a bit disheartening, especially after loving it so much out at Memorial. 

My rented Fisher Paragon in full cell phone cam resolution!

I wound up grinding out 52 miles on my rented niner, and when it was all over I was substantially more fatigued than usual.  Some of that I could probably chalk up to not letting my body rest for about 9 straight days prior to that ride, but there’s no question about it…that niner really kicked my ass. 

So I returned the bike safely (and sparklingly clean) back to West End, and I’m still wondering if it’s the right steed for me on the TD.  But I don’t have to make the decision now.  I’ll keep training, and when I get stronger in the saddle, I’ll give the niner another shot, and reassess based on that. 

In two weeks, I try for my first 200 mile weekend at Huntsville State Park!  YIKES!